Lyrics:
I’m a heartbreaker, Tom Petty
I slide then I spray like confetti
Heart cold as a yeti
I speed through the track like Andretti
And none of these
a Harley (oh shit)
I'm just tryna to smoke a blunt, no Bacardi
Doin' a buck eighty in my new 'Rari (vroom)
Roll up, spark up, like I'm Bob Marley
Get high
isn't an insult and a deed that I could never be insulted by Him, adding a well placed
And accredited quotation by Tom Waits in French no less, much
the silicone
Fuck it, I'ma build her a home
I'ma get my Bob the Builder on
I had to sеcure my home
And fuck what you said, i was on my own
Twin Glock nines, onе
Bill ain't a sucka
Part one tripped y'all out part two is a motherfucker
Gimme some bob and I'll start by killing me
I'm dead so pass the bob G
I wanna be?
I'm standing on water
Tripping by my feet
20 minutes out from home
I gotta 20 minutes
To be what I wanna be
Yea, you could grow up
You
she a thot, by the way I do favors
Comfortable in my pocket, Tom Brady
I’m the new James Bond, need my broad Tomb Raider
Angelina, bring the beef homie
Shh
(Well or, and this is, New York City)
Where the shiftiest sources leak
Out the back door
For more and this is New York City
(Oh, I see these
Don't hold the mic if you ain't able to spit
CSF that's the crew that I'm with
I'm on fire like Tom Shepard with Birdy on the sidelines crying
With
country bus
A go pon tour go link up
Me brethren Marcus
Hey have a stick a ganja weed
Under mi tom
Secure so sweet
And it smell so strong
Saddle up
Milky, and I'm back
My ace in the hole was this brand new track
I'ma slow it up and speed it up and now you're gonna eat it up
Listen
would come record it
With phonetic clone software who ever woulda thought it?
But I included numbers in my rap unsupported
By their new OS that's why OS
that you know imma throw
Robbed him for his minis, and his pump, and his scar
Imma loot that car, imma imma loot that car
Tom is in New York, and you
Ayy, Bob, what up? Yeah, haha!
Meek Milly ha! Grand Hustle in the building!
Ayy hey!
It's B-O, B-O lil' C on the beat
Haha yeah
Yeah, ayy, ah ah ah
by Dickey Betts
(c) 1980 EMI Blackwood Music Inc. and Pangola Publishing Company
We've been through hell and high water,
Ready to go through
Milky, and I'm back
My ace in the hole was this brand new track
I'ma slow it up and speed it up and now you're gonna eat it up
Listen
it's like a club or a set
Hip hop's the new WWF
What do you rap or do you wrestle' niggas love to forget
We got til it's gone, you think you on, you
reckless than a paisa
Driving without a license
Hittin’ your new truck then
Leaving you hiking
They said no, the industry let it go
I cracked the window then
to spend, oh
Kicked down the doors in New Orleans
We got busted at Grove Hill where nobody goes
And Long Bob drove us to the Badlands
You can bet your ass
it up, yeah
Ay, bob your head to the new life, say what
You won't ever catch me down 'cause I always fly up
Give a toast to this new life, say what
like fool nigga
I don't really play by the rules
She callin me Bob when I build on that ass
And I hammer her out like a tool
Wait
Chief again prolly
out the booth just like I fight crime
You text me new temptations, it got my eyes wide
But if you ain’t fight yours, why should I fight mine
Tell me
me in the tower
And I don't spout useless news, don't call me Matt Lauer
I'm a person with a mission, Tom Cruise in the zone
Fuck with my 45 leave your
Tom, I'm on the cruise
Hear it all, I'm on the radio and the news
Haters talk down, I am not amused or playing
Going all in like vegas
Throw in all
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